The Pen

You say I’m selfish if I go
You say I’m stupid if I stay
This pain on top of me does weigh
More than you’ll ever know.
My heart does want you so
But they tell me to push you away
To lay or not to lay?
Should I stay struck by Cupid’s bow?
Or should I separate from my heart
And listen to those here in my head
They say it’s better if we part
Than be together wed
So I’ll give up this love, give up this art
Because artists are meant to starve. And be left for dead.

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